


Comfort in Chaos

by icandrawamoth



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: New Republic Era - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, I Love You, M/M, Office, Post-Star Wars: Return of the Jedi, Self-Indulgent, Stress, Stress Relief, The Force
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2019-01-30 21:41:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12661977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icandrawamoth/pseuds/icandrawamoth
Summary: Luke guides Wedge through a moment of stress.





	Comfort in Chaos

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes I just wanna write some near-contextless hurt/comfort, what can I say? (Sorry, Wedge, bby, I'll let you be happy one day, I promise.)

The way Wedge's hands shake makes it impossible for him to work the datapad, so he lays it on his desk and clasps them together like a supplicant, hoping in vain to make it stop. He doesn't know why this is happening today, stress suddenly hitting him like an unexpected gravity well, suddenly yanking everything to a stop. Nothing has changed from yesterday or the day before that: just the ongoing, endless work of trying to get a new government off the ground, legitimize a Rebellion into a Republic, turn a militia from a threat to a defense... It's been weeks since he was in the air, and he misses his X-wing fiercely, the way everything falls away when he has the stick in his hand, the way he controls his own destiny up there.

It's almost too much for his frazzled nerves when the door slides open, and he has to squeeze his eyes closed for a long moment to gather himself. Doubtless another bureaucrat who wants an answer he doesn't have or a politician demanding he finish something he hasn't even had the time to start yet.

But the door closes again and before he can look up, there's a familiar voice: “It's just me, Wedge.”

“Luke.” He could cry from relief. Does feel stress-induced tears threatening the edges of his vision, if he's honest.

“I could hear you from the other side of the building,” Luke says softly. He hands land on Wedge's shoulders, massaging gently, and Wedge allows himself to let out a long breath, easing back into the touch.

“Just stress,” he admits. “I'm no worst off than anyone else.”

“I can't feel anyone else nearly at their breaking point like you are.” Luke touches a kiss to his hair, and Wedge closes his eyes, letting his attention drift from the work to his lover, if only for a moment.

“I just...” He doesn't know how to explain it.

“It's all right.” Luke's voice is gentle, soothing, and Wedge feels himself getting lost in it, knows what he's doing even before he quite starts. “Let me help...” Luke's hands still on his shoulders, grip light, and Wedge catches his breath as his feels the Force flow over him, Luke the conduit pouring the soothing energy over him. The sense of wholeness, of peace and calm, is all-consuming. Wedge breathes easier than he has in weeks, feels his stress melting away, his eyes drying.

He lifts a hand to cover one of Luke's. “Thank you,” he whispers. He can feel Luke there in the Force, too, closer even than they are physically, his gentle concern and his sincere wish to help, to comfort. It all feels like it's wrapping Wedge up in a warm cocoon, blanketing him away from any pain or fear. He lets himself drift in it, wishing it would last forever.

They breathe together like that, so connected, so right, for what feels like a long time, yet when Wedge feels it start to recede, it's like it barely happened. He concentrates on breathing evenly as the connection fades slowly until he's just himself again, his stress and anxiety returning, though blessedly not as strong as before.

“You should take a break,” Luke murmurs against his hair. He squeezes his hand, just a little.

Wedge sighs and shakes his head. “The New Republic needs this work done, regardless of how I feel.”

“The people of this galaxy don't know how much they owe you,” Luke tells him.

Wedge lets out a hollow laugh. “We both know this isn't a one-man show. You're doing just as much as I am. More.”

“You're always so quick to sell yourself short.”

Wedge shakes his head again. Luke has always thought too highly of him. Wedge knows his place: he's only one man, easily replaceable should that become necessary. He's not special.

“I'm glad I'm here to take care of you, anyway,” Luke says, and his arms loop around Wedge's neck, hold him from behind. “When we go home tonight, I'm going to take such good care of you. You won't have to worry about anything. I'll make supper, and then we can just rest, or...”

“Or you'll 'take care of me' in other ways?” Wedge asks, a faint but genuine smile finding his lips. He looks over his shoulder at shaggy blonde hair and clear blue eyes, and just seeing that beloved face fortifies him more than he can say. “I'll look forward to it, love.” He leans forward, silently asking for a kiss, and Luke gives it, tender and affectionate.

“I have to get back,” the Jedi says apologetically, “but I'll be here to pick you up as soon as we're both finished, okay?”

“Okay.” Wedge puts on a brave smile and waves him away. “Love you.”

“Love you.”

The door closes again, leaving him alone with the datapad, and Wedge sighs, forcing himself to pick it up again. He has several long hours until the promised reward, and then he'll be back here again early tomorrow. He knows he can do it, though, because the work is worth it, because he has Luke. A free galaxy and someone who loves him, by his side forever. What amount of stress could possibly stand against that?


End file.
